They stayed a moment, enjoying the afterglow, until the chill of the air began to seep in through their flesh, and he remembered how vulnerable they were to prying eyes. Nic swung himself down from the stone, lifting Olivia with him.
“I will never be nervous in this place again,” she said, straightening her clothing. “There are only good memories here now.”
He met her gaze, suddenly serious. “Don’t mention what happened here to anyone.”
Olivia bit her lip, eyes alight with laughter.
“No, minx, I don’t mean this,” he waved his hand at the stone. “I meant the gunshot, the trespasser. Say nothing. I will try and discover his identity myself, and it would be better to avoid any more scandal.”
Olivia agreed and, with a long, parting kiss, he left her at the edge of the woods to make her way back to Mother Eggin’s cottage. Nic stood for a time, watching over her. There was a mystery here, he thought. If it wasn’t an accident, then someone wished them ill. He knew he had enemies, but he wouldn’t have thought they were the kind to do something like this.
Was it a coincidence? The notes forged by one person, a scandal-monger, and the shot fired by someone else entirely. Some lunatic who thought he was shooting rabbits, and had frightened himself as much as them. Nic decided he’d instruct Wilson to take on an apprentice, just to be certain, though he doubted such a man would be back. Still, he made a mental note to watch out for any of the villagers who couldn’t meet his eyes next time they came face-to-face.
Chapter 24
Bassingthorpe Church bells were ringing. Their sound was sweet and slightly off-key, just as it had been for hundreds of years. Lord Lacey and his new bride stood on the porch, smiling and receiving congratulations from their families and guests and well-wishers. Olivia looked more beautiful than ever in her deep cream silk dress and matching cream slippers, her fair hair fastened up with flowers and pearls, while the ribbons sewn upon her skirt fluttered in the gentle breeze. Her wicked husband wore midnight blue, with a white satin waistcoat, and he looked darkly handsome enough for any woman.
Yes, Estelle thought, they made a fine couple.
She slipped her hand into Abbot’s. At her warm touch, he glanced down at her and returned her smile. They’d been married in Bassingthorpe Church, too, although their ceremony had been a great deal less extravagant and well attended than this one. Nevertheless, Estelle was now Mrs. Abbot and was moving to live at Castle Lacey, where she would be Olivia’s personal maid.
Until her pregnancy became too obvious.
Estelle was determined to keep it a secret as long as she could, but she was comforted by the thought that Lord Lacey was unlikely to be traveling abroad and taking Abbot with him when he was so recently married. Of course, there was the honeymoon and a few weeks to spend in London, but Estelle and Abbot would be accompanying them for that. It would be their honeymoon, too—in a way.
“Everything has worked out perfectly,” she said.
He squeezed her fingers. “Yes, it has. Lord Lacey, who swore he would never marry, is married to a proper lady like Miss Olivia, and he and Lady Lacey are speaking again after all these years.” His voice took on a sarcastic edge. “It’s quite like a fairy-tale ending.”
Estelle pinched his sleeve. “You sound as if you don’t believe it’ll last.”
“No,” he said, with a sigh. “I don’t see how it can. There are too many possibilities for disaster, my dear. You don’t know the Laceys like I do.”
But Estelle refused to be downhearted. “I may not know the Laceys, but I do know Miss Olivia,” she said firmly. “She won’t allow any disasters. You wait and see.”
Abbot knew when to give in. “I’m sure you’re right, Estelle.”
Estelle had spied Theodore Garsed and his brother, and nudged Abbot as the man approached the Laceys. He had such a benevolent look on his face, as if he was truly overjoyed for them. How strange, thought Estelle, when everyone knew he’d wanted Olivia for himself.
When she mentioned this to Abbot, he shrugged and suggested that perhaps Mr. Garsed was a genuinely good man, who wished for the best for the woman he’d loved. But Abbot was such a simpleton when it came to human nature that Estelle didn’t believe it for a moment.
Mr. Garsed wasn’t a good man, she decided, after she’d observed him when he thought no one else was watching. But he was a very good actor.
Theodore showed his teeth, saying all the right things. He was edgy and anxious. Alphonse had told him what he’d done—his brother could never keep anything to himself. The worst of it was Alphonse seemed to think Theodore would be pleased with him! Thankfully there’d been no repercussions; it hadn’t even been mentioned to him by anyone in the village, which was a fair indication that Nic and Olivia hadn’t spoken of it to anyone else. He was hoping they’d pushed it from their minds.
“Do you want me to stop, then?” Alphonse had mocked, eyes narrowed. “They do make a lovely couple.”
“Of course I want you to stop! Alphonse, for God’s sake, you can’t do something like this. I—I understand you want to help, but this isn’t the way to do it. If you’re caught you’ll be hanged. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Then I won’t be caught, brother.”
“You may have misjudged Lacey,” Mr. Monteith said to his wife. “He has behaved very gentlemanly.”
“If he hadn’t caused this scandal by ruining our daughter in the first place—” his wife hissed, a bitter droop to her mouth.
“Shush, you will be heard…”
She looked unrepentant, but he noticed she glanced about her to see if anyone was standing close enough to have caught any of her outburst. Mr. Monteith knew that in his world of business, appearance was everything, and the merest hint of scandal could cause one to be ostracized by customers and friends alike.